The Sonics, Pierced Arrows, the Pynnacles

[LEGENDARY NUGGETS] In the 1960s, there wasn't a scarier band in the Northwest than the Sonics. With lyrics about psychos, witches and drinking strychnine for kicks, the Tacoma-based proto-punks confirmed every parent's perceptions of rock-’n’-roll depravity. It wasn't just their lyrics, either: The band played harder, faster and nastier than any of its regional peers—which, considering Washington's garage-rock legacy, is saying something. Naturally, a group that unhinged was bound to fall apart quickly, and it did, imploding after recording two classic albums, Here Come the Sonics and Boom. But the crater it left behind is wide enough that its occasional latter-day reunion gigs seem less like desperate cash grabs than vital reminders of an age when a few crazy guys with guitars could frighten the bejesus out of an entire country. And even after 40-some years, they're still plenty terrifying.